


No Good to Dwell on the Future

by greyCacophony



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Anxiety, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Insomnia, M/M, Minor Violence, Nightmares, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-21
Updated: 2015-01-21
Packaged: 2018-03-08 11:45:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3207986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greyCacophony/pseuds/greyCacophony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chrom was increasingly worried about his friend, asking him repeatedly how he was feeling and if he was ill, and if he needed to go to Lissa or Libra for help. Robin just waved him off, reassuring him that he was fine, he felt perfectly healthy, he was just tired, hadn't eaten breakfast, trained too hard with Lon’qu, any excuse he could think of. Looking down, Robin noticed the trembling of his fingers as they traced mountain paths and routes through forests, across plains. As he let out a sigh, the rustling of fabric reached his ears. He turned to the flap of his tent, one hand on the knife sitting on the desk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Good to Dwell on the Future

Robin was so very tired as his weary eyes moved over the scrolls and books on the desk before him, his mind exhaustedly going over strategies and spells and the skills of his friends. He knew that he should go to sleep, Chrom and Lissa and all of the other Shepherds reminded him at least once a day. Still, if he let himself sleep, he made himself vulnerable to dreams, nightmares, terrifying visions of his future. After a battle, when exhaustion Finally felled him, he rarely dreamed, so he worked himself into a state of exhaustion before allowing himself sleep. It had been three, nearing on four, days since he had more than twenty minutes of sleep. His eyes were hazy and his skin was pale, contrasting sharply with deep bruises above his cheekbones. He knew that his sluggish movement and even more sluggish mind was a danger to his teammates, but his nightmares were a danger to his personal sanity, so he did what he had to.

Chrom was increasingly worried about his friend, asking him repeatedly how he was feeling and if he was ill, and if he needed to go to Lissa or Libra for help. Robin just waved him off, reassuring him that he was fine, he felt perfectly healthy, he was just tired, hadn’t eaten breakfast, trained too hard with Lon’qu, any excuse he could think of. Looking down, Robin noticed the trembling of his fingers as they traced mountain paths and routes through forests, across plains. As he let out a sigh, the rustling of fabric reached his ears. He turned to the flap of his tent, one hand on the knife sitting on the desk.

“Chrom. You really should announce yourself upon entering someone’s bedchambers. There’s a reason the women of this camp think you rude.”

Chrom’s smile was wry, the corners of his mouth twisting up and an impish twinkle in his eye.  
“Then I’m very glad that I don’t care what the women of this camp think of me. C’mere.”

The blue haired prince leaned over the back of Robin’s desk chair, pulling his strategist into his arms and pressing a kiss into his soft white hair. Robin groaned, tilting his head back to kiss the base of Chrom’s jaw. This got the prince’s attention, and he pulled back, taking in the appearance of his friend and lover. Robin blinked up at him owlishly, his pale grey eyes dull and his forehead clammy. He had no fever, but he moved slowly, tenderly, like any obstruction might send him keeling over. Chrom’s eyebrows knit together as he removed his gloves and gently put a hand on Robin’s cheek.

“Are you feeling alright, Robin?” he asked, stepping around front of him and stroking his cheekbone with a rough thumb. Robin sighed, placing his hand over Chrom’s.

“Yes, Chrom, I’m fine. You worry way too much.”

Chrom looked doubtful, hearing the slight slurring of the other man’s voice, the blending of his words and seeing the concentration in his eyes. He looks down at Robin, moving his face to meet his gaze, knowing precisely what Robin’s problem was.

“Robin, when was the last time you slept?” he asked, tone hard, but still caring. Robin firmly avoided his gaze, stormy eyes fixed resolutely to a point past the prince’s head. Chrom stroked his cheek once more, leaning into Robin’s line of vision.

“Robin?”

The strategist met Chrom’s eyes, guilt cutting through the haze of exhaustion. His lover tutted, pulling the man back into his arms, lips pressed to his shoulder as he muttered words he had said a thousand times before.

“C’mon, love. Time for bed. Either Lissa can make you one of those awful potions to put you to sleep, or I can try my very hardest to chase the nightmares away. You pick.”

Robin’s sleepy eyes shut regretfully as he rested his head against Chrom’s, revelling in the heat of the other man’s breath seeping into his skin through layers of clothes.  
“Stay with me?” he asked, voice small. “The potions make me feel awful for the next few days. You only make me feel awful the morning after.”

Chrom pulled back, placing a gentle and chaste kiss on his lover's lips.  
“I’ll ignore the last comment in favour of the sweetness of the first. Of course I’ll stay. Alright, up we go!”

“Chrom, wa-aaaaaaah!”

“Hahaha!”

“Put me down, Chrom!”

Chrom scooped his sleepy strategist into his arms, spinning him around once before laying him gently on the bed. Very slowly he began to undo Robin’s coat, carefully folding it and setting it next to the bed before stripping the other man down to his smallclothes. He took his own clothing off before sliding the blankets over both of them. He cast a look at the candle on Robin’s desk, but didn’t get up to turn it out. He knew that Robin sometimes slept better with the light on, the brightness contrasting with the darkness of his dreams. Robin had reluctantly told Chrom of his sleep problems after collapsing from exhaustion after a fight with a small horde of Risen. He was put on watch for self-neglect from then on, but they had all become more lax as time went on. It seemed that Robin was back in his old habits.

As Robin huffed at him, Chrom slid his arms around his lover, feeling the thinness of his frame and wiry muscles beneath his fingertips. His skin pale, not quite as light as his hair, and covered in scars from battle. There were small lacerations, large gashes, puncture wounds from the heads of arrows. Chrom gently ran his hands over them, tracing over Robin’s sides and skimming over his slim shoulders, not as wide without his heavy coat. He watched as the muscles beneath his fingertips contracted and Robin shuddered under his gaze. Long, pale fingers reached up to intertwine with Chrom’s, calluses rubbing over calluses. Robin opened his mouth to speak, but Chrom quickly quieted him with a chaste kiss, which Robin meekly reciprocated. He closed his eyes, limp fingers tracing patterns across Chrom’s chest. Chrom pressed one more soft kiss into his hair before closing his eyes as well, pulling his Robin closer to him, giving him his warmth and love.

_Running, the putrid stench of the Risen’s rotting flesh, the heaviness of the tome in his hand, the acrid tingle of lightning in the air, the heat of fire on his otherwise freezing body, the sting of snow against his exposed skin, the shouts of his team mates, the rush of a pegasus’s wings by his ear. It was all too much._

_Panting, the sharp feeling of a blade slicing through his flesh, the warmth of the Risen’s fetid breath, heated blood rushing from his side, his heart beating like a rabbit's, his heart stuttering, breath stopping as pain hit, impact with the ground, Chrom calling his name faintly in his ears._

_Robin laid there, vision blurring, and he knew that he was in danger, that he was losing blood quickly as the Risen began to flock around him. The clanging of swords and Chrom’s frantically screaming his name kept him focussed as he reached across the grass to find his tome in the snow. The pages opened to the one he was looking for as Robin began to cast. His teeth chattered as snow soaked his cloak. He was dying. He knew that he was dying, but his team mates still needed help. He had a strategy saved for this._

_“Chrom... everyone... F-forgive me…”_

_“ROBIN!”_

_“Vengeance.”_

“ROBIN!”

Robin bolted upright, breathing heavily as his wide, sleep-blurred eyes surveyed his surroundings. His vision was slow and his chest ached, his lungs seemingly unable to take in air. There was a warmth behind him, another body, and he needed to get away. His legs were tangled in the sheets, tripping him as he scrambled wildly from the bedroll. His limbs were shaking and tears stung in his eyes, the purple haze of Grima’s power engulfing the edges of his sight. The brand on his hand burned and the nails of his unblemished hand clawed desperately at the puckered skin, his tired eyes projecting the purple glow onto the mark that was burned not only into his hand, but into his soul. Trembling fingers moved to his chest and around his throat as the air began to smother him, squeezing his lungs until they were fit to burst, as his face flamed. Freeing his legs, Robin huddled close to one of the corners of the tent, pale eyes fixed on a point in the distance.

Chrom was stunned into stillness, his gaze fixed on the man who always seemed so composed, so collected. The prince’s mouth was slack with Robin’s name still hanging from his lips. He watched his lover’s frightened look, his heaving chest with his ribs pressing out at the skin, his sleep-mussed white hair dampened with sweat, his frenzied clawing. Slowly, the prince pulled himself towards the man, gently so as to not frighten him even more in the darkness. The candle had gone out in the night, most likely adding to Robin’s fear. Softly, he called his name.

“Robin.”

His silvery eyes turned to Chrom, filled with latent terror and shining with tears. Chrom’s heart broke at the sight of his lover so broken up. He held a hand out, offering the opportunity for Robin to decide whether or not he wanted the contact. The tactician reached out as well, but faltered, his fingers closing, line of sight dropping to his own outstretched hand. The brand. Chrom slowly reached forwards, brushing his fingertips to Robin’s as his hand enveloped Robin’s quivering fist.

“Robin. Hey, c’mon now. It’s alright. You’re safe. You’re here with me and you’re safe. I’m safe. All of the Shepherds are safe. We’re all okay. I want you to try to breathe for me. I know you can, for me. I know that you will be able to. That’s it, hold in and let out. Try for longer now? Good. There we go. You’re doing fine, Robin. We’re okay now, love.”

Robin’s gasps slowed, his brimming eyes clouded by the pain in his chest and the dizziness in his head. His feet and fingers tingled and his mouth was dry. This wasn’t the first time that his nightmares had bled into reality, sending him into a panicked frenzy. More often these days, Robin would wake up to these hallucinations, yearning to do nothing more than to claw his way out of his skin. But now, with Chrom’s gentle hands over his shaking fist and the small of his back, he found it a bit easier to come back. Chrom was safe. Chrom was still safe, and Robin was still alive and able to protect him.

Still, the lightheadedness traveled behind his eyes, loosening his muscles and making it nearly impossible to keep his eyelids open. He drifted, slumping heavily into Chrom’s arms as his breathing began to even out. The tingling in his limbs began to spread, giving Robin the feeling of floating, the feeling that he wasn’t in his body any more. However, he was aware of Chrom gently cradling him, tucking him into bed and smoothing his hair. Robin hazily opened his eyes, taking in Chrom’s relieved smile.

“Hello.” Robin greeted, voice quavering and hoarse. Chrom peered down at him, hand tracing over the line of his jaw.

“Hello.” Chrom leaned over Robin’s bedroll, carefully monitoring him as he came down from his panic attack. Robin closed his eyes once more, swallowing and clearing his throat. When he reopened them, nervousness lingered.

“I’m sorry you had to deal with that. That was… It hasn’t been that bad in a while. I wasn’t prepared. I don’t mean to be a burden.”

Chrom pulled Robin to him, threading his fingers through his tactician's hair as he gently shushed him.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. You shouldn’t have to be prepared for it. Hell, you shouldn’t even have to go through that. Like I said before, you’re the wind at my back and the sword at my side. I would do anything for you. You never need to prove your worth to me because you are not a burden. You are what keeps me going, Robin.”

This eased the guilt in Robin’s tired mind and he relaxed in Chrom’s arms.

“I know, I know. Sometimes my mind gets the better of me, you know? Before you, there was nothing. Sometimes the dark spots just swallow me up. “

His honesty was raw, the kind he showed only to Chrom in the hours of the dead of night. Chrom knew of Robin’s fears, his frustrations at the loss of his memories, it was just rare that the secretive man spoke of them. Robin was always doing everything in his power to make sure that he wasn’t a burden to the Shepherds. He felt that he had to prove himself, that he wasn’t good enough. His lack of confidence killed Chrom, made him put in the effort to constantly reassure him that he was needed, he was loved, that this all wasn’t in his head. It was always worse after a bad night like this. Chrom settled himself onto the bedroll, laying down with Robin in his arms, fully engulfing the other man in his warmth.

“I know, my love. I know. But then has passed, and it does no good to dwell on the future. Right now, we are together. You’re here with me, as it should be, and as it always will be. “

Robin smiled, his lips brushing against Chrom’s chest. He was so glad that of all the people to have fallen for, it was this man, the one he would gladly sacrifice himself for, and the one he would do anything to save.

**Author's Note:**

> Vengeance (復讐 Vengeance) is a combat trigger skill which debuted in Fire Emblem: Awakening. Associated with the Sorcerer class, when activated it deals extra damage to the enemy based on how low the user's current HP is relative to their maximum.  
> Vengeance has the highest activation rate of any of the trigger skills in Awakening (Sol, Luna, Astra, Ignis, Lethality, Aether). If a unit with Vengeance has 50 or more Skill (possible through children with certain fathers, when paired up or through skills like Limit Breaker), it is possible for Vengeance to have an activation rate of 100% or more.  
> The maximum possible extra damage which can be dealt with Vengeance by a playable unit is 44, achievable by a unit with 90 maximum HP (only possible for a promoted unit with HP +5 and who has had a HP Tonic or Kris's Confect used on them) who currently has only one HP remaining; without HP +5 or items, the maximum damage dealt under the same conditions is 39. 
> 
> Basically, the less health Robin has, the more damage he deals out when using Vengeance. This started out as two separate fics, but they somehow combined, my headcanon of Robin using this at the brink of death merging with my headcanon of him working himself to exhaustion in an attempt to grab some sleep.
> 
> Also, I'm working on part two of the Henry/Lon'qu series. I'm whump loving trash who loves to hurt my babies, but the new one is way fluffier than this one turned out to be.


End file.
